


Choices

by Zutara90



Category: Splinter Cell (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zutara90/pseuds/Zutara90
Summary: Splinter Cell: Blacklist- Sam gets in over his head when he willingly exposes himself to a nerve gas agent. Now it's up to Briggs to save him. And both will have to live with the consequences of their actions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author’s Note:** A relatively short one, this time. I really loved Blacklist since it was the best Splinter Cell (in my opinion) since Chaos Theory. This idea had been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I had honestly forgotten about it until a couple of weeks ago for some reason. In any case, it’s just my take on what would have happened at the end of the “Abandoned Mill” mission, after Sam has planted the bug on the nerve gas. There are a lot of similarities to the game, but I promise it is quite different overall. As always, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

**Chapter One**

Sam headed up the ladder. He was so close. He just had to take Sadiq out and it would all be over. But with every ascending step, his limbs grew heavier. His focus wandered. Grim’s voice drew him back to reality.

“Sam, your vitals are all over the place. I don’t like this. You need to get out of there.”

Fighting back a grimace, Sam stuttered out, “I’m fine.”

Finally reaching the top of a ladder that had seemed a lot shorter when he had started climbing, Sam hoisted himself over the edge less gracefully than he would have liked and landed in a heap on the floor. Though blurred, it was apparent that a lab was situated just ahead of Sam’s position, given away by its white, plastic tents and occupants wearing outfits to match. His health deteriorating, it took Sam a few attempts just to stand up. The world swam around him as though he were caught in the middle of a shimmering mirage.

Sam headed towards the lab, now in a full-on daze. He stumbled onward, unaware of the people around him, and uncaring as to whether they saw him. He simply couldn’t form a coherent thought. All he could do was blindly move forward in an effort to complete his one objective, the only thing left for his failing mind to grasp—to kill Sadiq. From far away, he heard a voice. It was somehow familiar though he couldn’t identify its owner.

“Your O2 Sat is plummeting. Sam, get out of there now!”

Some ingrained convention dictated a response, but being reduced to a primordial being, Sam couldn’t form any intelligible words, instead just mumbling a few syllables.

He had made it halfway through the lab, quickly being surrounded by confused technicians sounding the alarm. The lights around him blurred together with the faces popping in and out of his view. His footsteps faltered as his legs gave out beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. The moment he hit the ground, the voice called to him again in its seemingly endless effort to keep him awake when all his body wanted to do was fade away.

“Sam? Sam, do you copy? Sam?! Briggs, move in on Sam’s position. Now!”

But Sam’s body had won the battle, drawing him downward into darkness as masked faces closed in on him, arms outstretched.

* * *

Sam was jolted awake by the butt of a pistol colliding with his face. He groaned at the shock of it. By some miracle, his mind had returned, though his senses were still fuzzy. Whether it was the adrenaline surge caused by the blow or just some strange circumstance that allowed him the luxury of thought once more, Sam didn’t know. He was simply thankful for it.

Unfortunately, there was nothing comforting about the situation Sam found himself in. He was seated in a folding chair, hands tied behind his back. On any other day, the restraint would have been insulting. Having his hands tied was child’s play by Splinter Cell standards. But Sam was still in bad shape from the nerve gas exposure. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat, his hands and feet growing clammy. Breathing became more and more difficult. There was nothing he could do about his situation and he knew it. Not in the condition he was in. However, though his mind had been addled before he passed out, it had still registered Grim’s last words. Sam knew help was coming. He only had to last long enough for it to arrive.

A pair of fingers snapped in front of Sam’s face. It had taken Sam mere seconds to assess the situation, but it appeared that the man holding the gun had no time to waste. The fingers placed themselves under Sam’s chin and forced him to look into the eyes of their master. It was Sadiq.

There were other men in the room as well, stationed at the doors. They were all heavily armed and armored. This was in stark contrast to Sadiq, who held but a pistol and whose leather jacket was his most protective layer of clothing.

“You’re not looking too good, are you?” The words were laced with an English accent and a mock concern. “It seems you’ve sampled my product. I’m impressed. I doubt there are many people who would still be conscious at this point.”

Despite his best efforts, Sam couldn’t force his eyes to focus in on Sadiq’s face. His pupils were dilating and contracting beyond his control, making the lights situated behind the man brighten and dull in rapid succession. Sadiq continued with his monologue, circling Sam, oblivious to his discomfort.

“I knew someone was following me. And here I find you, delivering yourself to my front doorstep. Did you think you could just sneak in here and dismantle my entire operation in one fell swoop? How naïve. You’re not the first person to try to stop me and you certainly won’t be the last. Normally, I would just kill men like you, but I admit to being intrigued. You see, I’ve searched every database known to man and you show up on none of them.” Sadiq came to a halt directly in front of Sam, leaning over so that their faces were mere inches apart. “You don’t exist. You are a ghost. And so I ask you this question. Who are you?”

Although it was a question, Sam saw it for what it truly was, a threat. This was an interrogation, plain and simple. And there was no such thing as a cordial interrogation. And so Sam responded in kind, glaring into Sadiq’s eyes. “I’m the man who’s going to kill you.” He put as much validity into the words as possible, but Sam’s voice still hitched as though he were in pain.

A second later, Sadiq slammed a knife into Sam’s leg. Sam cringed, but swallowed his cry, spit flying from between clenched teeth as he fought to control the pain. The knife was expertly placed, hitting nothing vital so as to prolong the torture. It was not Sadiq’s first time using such a technique.

“Amusing, but pointless.” Sadiq stepped back a pace, laughing at Sam’s audacity. “An interesting knife, that,” Sadiq mused, pointing at the knife still lodged in Sam’s leg. “A karambit. Very interesting. Not standard issue, even for a black ops agent. Yes, I may not know your name, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know who you are. You are American, that is clear enough. With specialized, black ops training. No doubt top of your class. And highly experienced judging by your age. I should be flattered that the Americans sent such a man after me. And more than one too.”

At those words, Sam’s eyes found their way back to Sadiq. The motion didn’t go unnoticed by Sadiq who flashed a winning smile before rounding on Sam. Sam berated himself for giving such an obvious affirmation. Maybe his mind wasn’t as clear as he had thought. In any case, he should have realized that Sadiq had found his earpiece since he was no longer wearing it. And an earpiece could only mean one thing.

“I know you have a team and you’re going to tell me where they are.”

Angry at himself for falling for such a novice tactic, Sam let his fire fuel his retort. “Go to hell.”

Sadiq struck like lightning, seizing the karambit and twisting it mercilessly in Sam’s thigh. The curved blade only added to the agony. Sam cried out, unable to control himself this time.

“Where is your team?!” Sadiq roared.

The knife twisted still further. Sam knew his body couldn’t take much more. It was failing. Not from the interrogation, but from the delayed effects of the nerve gas. He had been hiding it as well as he could from Sadiq, but his fortitude was giving out. And the blood loss only served to send him over the edge.

Nonetheless, Sadiq had shown his hand. When he dropped his composed demeanor, he had betrayed the real subject of the interrogation. He didn’t care who Sam was. Despite his show of bravado, Sadiq was worried about who was still out there.

With Sam’s head sagging forward, Sadiq would have missed Sam’s answer were it not for the fact that their faces were so close. The answer was not in the form of a verbal reply, but a smile. Sam gave a half-hearted smirk with what remained of his strength and its effect was more powerful than anything he could have said.

Sadiq’s surety faded in an instant and was replaced with doubt. Squinting in confusion, he anxiously turned to each entrance to the room in turn, searching for some unseen threat. Finding none, he turned back to Sam only to pause a moment before looking to the window.

It was then that Briggs came crashing through the glass, his weapon already firing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It didn’t take long for Briggs to neutralize the men in the room. There were four of them stationed around the periphery and in the span of a few seconds, they were all laid out on the floor, unmoving. Briggs was having to dodge and roll all the while to avoid their return fire. He had not gotten a shot off on his true target, however. As soon as Briggs had entered the room, Sadiq had grabbed Sam around his neck, dragging him to his feet and using him as a shield. Too weak to fight back, Sam could only hobble awkwardly in Sadiq’s grasp, the karambit still protruding from his leg.  

The firefight came to a stalemate as Briggs hid behind a concrete pillar.

“By my estimate, you only have one shot left,” Briggs called out. Sadiq’s pistol had a very distinctive sound when fired and Briggs could hear it over din of the ancillary gunfire. He had been counting Sadiq’s shots, waiting for this moment.

Briggs pulled out of cover, gun pointed at Sadiq’s head, though it was mostly hidden behind Sam’s. Sadiq mirrored his actions, pointing his pistol at Briggs.

Sam was in bad shape. Briggs could see that well enough. His eyes were distant and unfocused, lids half closed. His breathing was labored and a large trail of blood was streaming down his leg. If Sadiq didn’t have hold of him, he probably would have collapsed.

“One is all I need...” Sadiq turned his gun to Sam’s head, but didn’t fire.

Briggs still didn’t have a shot or he would have taken it. There weren’t many options remaining. He couldn’t just demand that Sadiq let Sam go because that would only confirm that Sam was important and Sadiq would kill him for sure. He couldn’t wait out the situation either. Sam didn’t have that long. So he called Sadiq’s bluff.

“Go ahead. And as soon as he’s dead, you’ll join him.”

Silence.

Then Sadiq added, “…but I’m not going to kill him. No, he’s much more useful to me alive. At least for now. You have two options here—save him, or come after me. I’d choose quickly though. By the looks of him, I’d say you have about five minutes.”

In Briggs’ ear, Grim chimed in. “Sam’s vitals are plummeting. Briggs, you need to do something!”

Before Briggs could act, Sadiq continued. “You were wrong by the way.” At that, he pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but didn’t fire. He was out of bullets. Immediately after, he threw Sam forward into Briggs and ran through the door behind him.

Briggs only managed to fire a few rounds before he had to catch Sam who was falling face-first towards the concrete floor. Though he was only half-conscious, Sam was clearly still aware of the situation.

“Go get… get Sadiq,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, Sam.” Briggs had no intention of chasing Sadiq. They would just have to go after him another day. Right now he had to get Sam to the medics. As soon as possible. He cut the rope binding Sam’s hands so that he could lay flat on his back.

“That’s… an order.” The words came out weaker than the first.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

Briggs didn’t have any medical supplies with him, but he couldn’t just leave the knife in Sam’s leg. Seeing one of the dead soldiers nearby, Briggs tore a large strip of cloth from the man’s shirt. Without wasting any time, he swiftly pulled the knife from Sam’s leg, trying not to cause any more damage in doing so. The action tore a grunt of pain from Sam. Upon inspection, Briggs realized the knife was actually Sam’s. He grimaced at the thought that it had been used against its owner, but pocketed it nonetheless. Using zipties, Briggs secured the cloth over the wound, satisfied that it would stanch the bleeding enough to extract Sam.

Next, Briggs pulled out a shot and injected it into Sam’s uninjured leg. The effect was nearly instantaneous. Sam’s breathing eased and his eyes opened, becoming clearer.

“Sam’s going to need more than that if he’s going to make it through this. Get to the roof. The chopper’s on the way,” Grim reported.

Extending a hand towards Sam, Briggs asked, “Can you shoot?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to cover them if he was supporting Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, already sounding better than he had moments before.

Though Briggs could tell Sam was angry, Sam said nothing as Briggs pulled him to his feet and threw his arm around his shoulders to support him. Briggs handed a spare pistol to Sam and they slowly made their way to the roof which was a couple of floors up from their position.

The going was slow. Sam was still weak and out of it, even if less so than before the injection Briggs had given him. It didn’t help that he had a small limp due to his wounded leg. What would have taken thirty seconds at any other time was taking several minutes. They were slowed even further when they ran into a couple of Sadiq’s men.

One found them at the base of the stairs leading to the next floor. Sam saw him first and fired. His arm was heavy and uncoordinated, throwing off his aim. However, a bad shot for Sam was still pretty good. He had been going for a headshot, but ended up shooting the man straight through the neck. The man fell to the floor, gurgling and clutching the spurting hole in his neck. The splinter cells pressed on only to be waylaid once again at the top of the stairs. The pistol was silenced, but the second man must have heard it or his dying comrade because he was waiting for Sam and Briggs. Luckily, he wasn’t the crack shot that Sam was. A bullet grazed Briggs’ arm and smashed with a loud _clink_ into the metal railing behind him. In an instant, Sam had fired a return shot, but his aim was suffering even more by that point. The bullet hit the man in his upper left arm, causing him to stumble back a step, but he still retained hold of his gun. Seeing this, Briggs let go of Sam, allowing him to slump to the ground so he could grab his own weapon and finish the man off.

They didn’t meet anyone else after that. Once again on their way, Briggs could tell Sam was deteriorating. The extra minutes were wearing on him. His breathing started to pick up. His head sagged and his arm drooped, barely capable of carrying the pistol.

“C’mon Sam, stay with me. We’re almost there.” Briggs let an air of command creep into his words, hoping that Sam, ever the soldier, would respond to it. But it did no good.

As they neared the last flight of stairs, Briggs heard the gun thud on the ground and Sam’s feet stopped moving, forcing Briggs to let go of him. Sam fell to the ground, unconscious, but still breathing. Briggs quickly stowed the fallen weapon and slung Sam over his shoulders, using one of his arms and legs to hold him in place. Hearing the helicopter on the roof above them, Briggs ran up the steps and straight into it, laying Sam down on a row of seats.

“Get us to the Paladin, now!” Briggs barked at the pilot.

“ETA five minutes,” was the answer.

“Make it three.” Briggs looked down at Sam and then up at the pilot, his face full of concern. The pilot glanced at Sam and Briggs in turn, giving Briggs a slight nod of understanding before he turned back to the controls.

The ride seemed an eternity to Briggs. All he could do was watch as Sam’s breathing went from near-hyperventilation to barely perceptible. He sat opposite Sam, arms rested on his knees, chin rested on clutched hands. His lips moved noiselessly in a silent plea for haste. Left with nothing else to occupy his mind, Briggs resorted to counting the ever-lengthening time between Sam’s breaths. At one point, the count reached fifteen seconds and Briggs had rushed forward, sure that Sam’s heart had stopped. But Sam drew in another choppy breath, starting Briggs’ heart again, but leaving his nerves frayed.

Unable to contain his anxiousness any longer, Briggs reached out to Grim. She had been silent since they had begun their extraction, knowing full well that Briggs didn’t need any updates on Sam. He was experiencing any change in condition first-hand.

“Grim?”

She clearly knew what he was going to say. “Medics are standing by at the loading bay.”

“ETA thirty seconds.”

Briggs picked Sam up in preparation for their landing. Once inside the airplane, Briggs didn’t even wait for the helicopter to touch down. He leapt from the open door a few feet above the floor, having to throw an arm out to catch himself. Sam’s extra weight had nearly borne them to the ground. Recovering quickly, Briggs met the medics who were hurrying a gurney towards them and placed Sam atop it.

As soon as they had their patient, the doctors immediately started calling out necessary meds to be administered, a catheter already present in Sam’s arm. Grim was there too, and she grabbed Briggs by the arm when he made to follow Sam.

“There’s nothing more we can do for him now. We would only get in their way.”

Briggs sighed and relaxed marginally, no longer pulling against her grasp. On his face was still a look of defeat. “It took too long to get him here. He’s not going to make it.”

“You don’t know Sam like I do. If anyone could survive what happened, it’s him. He’ll make it.”

Neither fully convinced nor willing to argue, Briggs just gave Grim a tense smile, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. He met her eyes only for a second. Then he turned and headed into the depths of the Paladin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sam awoke groggily, but with each passing second, the world became clearer around him. He could tell he was in the infirmary on the Paladin. He had certainly been there enough times to know what it looked like.

The events up until he had passed out were muddled, but he could still remember most of what had happened. Certainly enough to harbor an anger towards Briggs for disobeying him and letting Sadiq go. For Sam, there was no greater offense than not taking any opportunity to put a dangerous man down. He would have done it himself had he been even remotely capable.

He had to find out where they stood concerning Sadiq.

Unable to sit still any longer, Sam starting disconnecting himself from the medical machines scattered around him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His legs nearly couldn’t support him and he had to steady himself on the wall as he walked down the hallway to the control room.

Grim was standing at the entrance, talking to one of the tech analysts. She looked astonished when she spotted Sam and dismissed the crewman next to her to turn to him.

“You’re awake.” It was both a statement and an amazed question. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Sam brushed past her concern. “Where’s Sadiq? Do we know his location?”

“No, not yet. But the tracker you placed is live so it’s only a matter of time.” She hurried through the response, wanting to get back to her own argument. “But Sam, there’s no way I’m letting you go back out there right now. You were nearly dead when you came back and we have no idea what that nerve gas did to you. We have to run more tests.”

Looking up over Grim’s shoulder for a moment, Sam did a double take when he spotted Briggs standing near the center of the room. His rage erupted.

* * *

“Briggs!”

Sam sidestepped Grim, oblivious to her protestations. Grim then stepped in front of Sam, placing her hands on his chest in an effort to stop him. “Sam, you need to rest. There’s no telling—” But Sam ignored her and pushed past.

“Sam!” Briggs answered Sam in honest surprise. “I can’t believe your walking right now.”

Sam doggedly ploughed on with what he was saying as he charged up to Briggs. “That was your last mission. I’m pulling you out of the field.”

Briggs was taken aback, both shocked and disbelieving. “What? What are talking about?”

Sam angrily jabbed his finger at Briggs’ chest. “You disobeyed a direct order. You’re lucky I don’t have you discharged.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

By this time, the entire room had stopped what they were doing. All eyes were glued to the two men in the center of the room, monitors and reports forgotten.

“You were dying, Sam. What did you want me to do?” Briggs asked indignantly.

“I wanted you to finish the job, Briggs!” shouted Sam in response. “Nothing else matters. Nothing. Not you. Not me.” He paused a moment before adding, “You’re done.”

With a final, harsh stare leveled at Briggs, Sam turned to leave. Grim, having remained silent throughout the argument, made a placating gesture to Briggs, wanting him to stay put while she went to talk to Sam. She turned to follow him, and Briggs turned his back to both of them, too angry and incredulous for words. He scoffed and placed his hands on his hips, not sure what to do with himself, awkwardly meeting the eyes of those watching. His emotions boiled over until the steam burst forth.

He called out, still facing away from Sam and Grim. “No. You know what, Sam?” Briggs turned. “I’m not going to apologize for saving—”

Briggs’ sentence died, anger transforming into worry, as Sam fell into an unused tech station near the door.

“Sam?”

Sam briefly held himself up by the chair in front of the monitor before crumpling to the ground, pulling the chair over with him. The plastic wheels were left swinging in the air.

“Sam!”

Briggs dashed forward, meeting Grim at Sam’s side as Sam started convulsing on the floor. Sam’s eyes rolled into his head, with teeth clenched and hands contorted into claws. His breathing was sporadic; he gasped in a breath only when his spasming diaphragm would allow it.

“I need something for his head!” Grim called out to the room. One of the analysts handed her his jacket and she rolled it up and placed it under Sam’s head. When everyone stood frozen at the spectacle, Grim rounded on them. “Don’t just stand there. Go get the medics!” They hesitated just a moment too long. “Go!” Grim spat at them. The woman nearest Sam sprang into action, darting from the room.

“What’s happening? I thought you said Sam was better.” Briggs asked, almost accusingly.

“I said he was stabilized. For the time being, anyway. But there’s no telling what lasting effects the nerve gas could have had on his body. He must have relapsed. Maybe because of the stress of the argument, I don’t know.”

The pair could only watch as Sam flailed uncontrollably on the floor. There was nothing they could do for him except try to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

“Where the hell is the goddamn medic!” Grim called out in frustration, looking around as though it were the spectators’ fault the medic hadn’t arrived yet. In reality, it hadn’t even been a minute, but it had seemed like thirty.

Abruptly, Sam’s convulsions ceased. But so did his breathing. His head lolled to the side as his hands fell lifelessly to the ground and his chest became still.

“Grim!” Briggs cried out as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of Sam. But Grim was already turning back, having noticed the lack of sound.

She checked Sam’s pulse. Her countenance divulged the bleak news. Her words confirmed it shortly thereafter.

“No, no, no, c’mon, Sam.” She started chest compressions on Sam, willing him, physically and mentally, to come back to them. “Come on, Sam, breathe! You’re not going to die like this. I won’t let you. Now breathe!”

Briggs, meanwhile, had nothing but concern written on his face. He couldn’t believe Sam was now in worse condition than he had been before. He thought for sure that since Sam had pulled through the initial bout, he was in the clear. But everything just seemed to keep going wrong.

It had been nearly a minute that Grim had been giving CPR. Briggs had been mouthing his own silent encouragements on top of Grim’s spoken ones. Just as Grim had seemed nearly ready to give up, Sam heaved in a gasping breath, his eyes bursting open. He surged upward and seized Grim’s arm out of a reflex instinct borne of too many hostile encounters. Both Briggs and Grim jumped, Grim more so because of Sam’s assault. Sam’s eyes still hadn’t focused and it was clear his mind hadn’t quite returned yet.

“Sam?” Grim kept her arm still even though Briggs could tell Sam’s grip was painful. She placed her free hand on the side of Sam’s face, tilting it towards her own. “Sam, look at me. Can you hear me? Sam?”

Finally, a spark of recognition. Sam’s eyes searched Grim’s face and then descended to her arm, the one he was clutching. He let go, leaving a red outline of his hand on her arm. Briggs knew it would bruise, but Grim lowered it without comment.

Sam wore a look of confusion and slight embarrassment. “Grim… I… what happened?”

“You started having a seizure and then… your heart stopped. I had to bring you back.” While Grim was talking, Sam propped himself up onto an elbow and then made to stand, nearly falling over in his attempt. Briggs caught and steadied him, but let go when Sam leant on the desk instead. “You need to take it easy, Sam. This is exactly what I was talking about. That nerve gas could have caused permanent damage.”

“I need to get back out there, find Sadiq.” Sam was breathing hard and visibly weak from his ordeal.

“Are you crazy? You can’t just go back out there. If that had happened out in the field,” Grim proclaimed, making a sweeping gesture with her hand, “you wouldn’t have come back.”

“It doesn’t matter!” shouted Sam heatedly. Briggs could tell he was irritated. Already so at Briggs, but now at Grim as well. “Sadiq is still out there and thousands of lives are at risk. We don’t stop until there’s a bullet in his head.”

“Let Briggs go.”

“No.” Sam’s voice was stern and determined, unwilling to budge on that topic. “We’re in this situation because of him.”

Briggs opened his mouth to answer, but Grim beat him to it.

“You’re still alive because of him, Sam!”

The medics chose that opportune moment to arrive, followed closely by the woman who had fetched them. They skidded to a halt in the doorway, looking from Grim to Sam, clearly confused by Sam’s seemingly healthy condition. Grim held them back with a wave of her hand, but they were largely ignored by Sam.

Instead, Sam glared at Grim, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This discussion is over. Notify me as soon as you have Sadiq’s location.” Before Briggs or Grim could form a reply, Sam staggered from the room, leaning heavily on the desk as he did so. The two medics trailed him silently, one assisting him down the corridor. Neither Briggs nor Grim followed, thinking it unwise to be in his presence for the time being.

Grim turned to Briggs, a sad, sympathetic face looking up at him.

“No matter what Sam says, Briggs, you made the right choice.”

In spite of her words, Briggs still felt somewhat guilty. “What if Sam’s right though? What if more innocent people die because I let Sadiq go?”

“Briggs, there will always be another Sadiq. You take him out and there are ten more men just like him vying to take his place.” At the look of confused disgust on Briggs’ face, Grim quickly amended, “I’m not saying that we should give up or stop going after them, not at all. That’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, what I’m trying to say is, innocent lives are always at risk. That’s the sad truth about our job. You save the lives of those you can, no matter what. That includes Sam too. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

After flashing an encouraging, but somewhat subdued, smile, Grim strode away, leaving Briggs to contemplate her words. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. Right and wrong? There was no simple answer. No guidebook to point him down the correct path. He was so sure he had been doing the right thing when he had saved Sam. He had trusted his gut. Briggs decided that’s all he could do. Trust himself. And live with the choices he made.

For better or for worse.

**THE END  
**

* * *

Thanks for reading! I wanted to show a little more of the dynamic between Sam and Briggs and, of course, make the scene a little more dramatic as is my wont. If you have any comments, reviews, questions, concerns, suggestions, or criticisms, please share! I’m always open to and love to hear any feedback. Thanks!


End file.
